


Would You Kindly

by Bremmatron33



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers: Prime
Genre: Non-Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Sci-Fi Violence, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2020-12-09 13:49:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20995829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bremmatron33/pseuds/Bremmatron33
Summary: Velocitron is a mysterious and dangerous place. What Breakdown finds there is likely going to change his life forever, it already has once.





	1. Chapter 1

What do you know about Velocitron?”

What an odd question to be asked. Breakdown sat in front of a small worn desk, still fumbling with the paper flier in his servos. The aerial femme behind said desk was tidy and kind looking but her field seemed exhausted.

“Well, miss...not much. I uh….I was on the crew that created some of the cities. You know on the planet they were meant to land….I remember the news reporting the emergency transmissions we got from them. I know during the war...Megs ran across traders but those stories sounded like exactly that. So not much else I’m afraid.”

The femme smiled wearily and started with a sigh as if she’d gone through this script again and again. “What if I told you we found them? What’s….left of them more likely. What if I told you we needed all the metal we could get? That this adventure would be dangerous and unpredictable but success would be rewarded handsomely. What would you say to all of that Breakdown?”

Breakdown took a moment to consider. He’d taken up temp work to get outta the Con life. To distance himself from danger. Still, he needed the money and Breakdown had been told Windblade was a femme he could trust. “Well, I suppose I’d ask if I had to supply my own rifle or if I’d be given one?”

Windblade’s servo shot out across the desk, her digits tucked tight, waiting. “I’ll be happy to tell you you’ll be getting all the ammunition you need. Welcome aboard.” Breakdown stared at that outstretched servo, the digits trembling, pleading silently.

“Well, at least tell me what I’m getting into first. What’s got you so scared?” Windblade’s digits curled.

“This won’t be an easy mission. You could get hurt...you could be killed. If you have any respect for your life...leave while you can Breakdown.”

Breakdown leaned heavily on the table, sporting a proud smirk. “I don’t run that easily anymore. I just want to know what I’m expected to deal with. Aliens? Plague? War? What is it?”

Windblade nodded slightly. “We don’t know. I was only interested in Navitas. I was hoping we could bring him home even for just a little while. I managed to get one contact. She told me to give up on the idea. Told me...that Navitas was infested.”

“Infested? By what?”

“She didn’t say.”

“So what’s the mission then?”

“It’s to save Navitas and any Velocitronians that we can.” Breakdown nodded somberly.

“Exactly how much metal you got behind you on this? It seems like a larger operation.”

“It all depends on what we find first contact. We’ve only been able to access one spacebridge to Velocitron. It’s nowhere near Navitas. We not only have to find him but determine the severity of this infestation before we can get any real backup.”

“Is this contact going to help us?” Windblade nodded.

“She said she’ll lead us to Navitas but that’s it. She’s terrified of being near him, what’s living inside him. Any Velocitronian is going to feel the same so I don’t think we’ll have much luck getting help on planet...but she said there might be someone still in Navitas’ compound that might help us...if they’re still alive.”

“So we’re going in blind and alone. Not all that smart.” Windblade only nodded as she sunk back into her seat.

“I warned you. I won’t be offended if you left.”

“I don’t really got the means to say no, actually. I need credits. So I guess I’m all aboard this mission.” A sad smile slipped back to Windblade’s lips. She stood and headed around to the front of the desk. Breakdown stood too, not expecting to be pulled into a tight hug.

“You can’t know how much I appreciate this Breakdown. Don’t worry, I’ll try to get you at least two more mechs to help you out.”

Breakdown left the femme and the small government building with an odd feeling in his spark but one he couldn’t place. It wasn’t fear or unease the war had since taken those from him but it certainly played on his nerves.

He headed home playing the built-up messages in his inbox. Mostly from new friends, each informing him of jobs that needed strong servos. Nearly all the constructicons had given him a call. Each for a different building project. It would keep him busy, keep credits in his account and his bills paid till Windblade finally got back to him.

So he was able to rest easy as he punched into the access key to his small apartment and fell heavily on his comfortable couch with an exhausted sigh. He instantly wished he hadn’t; knowing the thin fog wisping across his optics meant he was already too low and even in his apartment the fuel cooler was too far away.

Breakdown groaned, letting his back rest against the thick supportive cushion for a moment before rising again with a long stretch. He really needed to see a medic if he was going to be getting back into construction. His axles were bowed beyond belief and his struts were weak from malnutrition. He’d need supplements and help. For not even the dregs that were his energon were cold and refreshing. Unlike most Breakdown didn’t shudder and wretch as he watched the thick sediment of unprocessed energon sludge into his glass cube as he poured his meal for the night. He liked the soft crunch of the crystals, he had the denta for it and it didn’t scratch his intake like others claimed. For him it made the fuel seem thick, substantial in a way the high priced energon wasn’t.

As he returned to his comfortable couch his thoughts went back to Windblade and her mission. What did Cybertron know about Velocitron? Not much that was for sure...but they were reportedly doing well as far as trade and innovation. There were tons of them littering the galaxy and while none of them spoke well of their home...they didn’t seem afraid of it. So why was Windblade having so much trouble? Were they just distrusting? Angry that Cybertron all but ignored their initial pleas when they first crashed off course. Breakdown could only guess...but he knew there had to be something listed somewhere that someone could tell him. So he decided to make a few calls. If he was officially part of this strange mission the least he could do was help.

* * *

He was on a site when Windblade called him back. Three maybe four weeks later. Little to no time considering how long it usually took government projects to get off the ground. He listened to the almost gleeful message as he took a break from the dust and heat of the equipment. As Windblade listed off the time and place they were scheduled to meet up the feeling that plagued him whenever he thought of the planet returned. Velocitron...the name struck his spark like a lob though he had no good reason why.

“What’s got you thinking Breaky?” Breakdown was pulled from his daze by the heavy settling of Bulkhead by his side. He didn’t mean to rectify their past, honestly, there were still some things he could never forgive the mech for...but that had been when they skewed romantic and he’d long since learned his lesson. It would have been many long and awkward days if he didn’t move on honestly. Even with the new social views on mechs frames, heavy duties were needed where they worked best at the moment. They ran into each other far too often to keep the hostility up even if it was only at a simmer.

“Signed up for a job. Just got the details today.” Bulkheads servo fell heavy on his shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you fell for that camien femme the councils got? You know what she told me? That if I just came back alive with any information at all that I’d get an easy three hundred creds! That's like...a decades salary. For one job! It’s too good to be true.” Breakdown slipped from the suddenly suffocating touch sheepishly.

“Yup, that’s the one. I...I don’t know why I said yes as if I thought I somehow wouldn’t get work or something. I just feel too bad to back out now. I don’t think she was having much luck getting mechs to help her you know?”

“Yeah! Because no one knows slag about Velocitron or the mechs left living there! The dang government abandoned them so who knows what they’re like and who knows the pit they landed on!”

“Windblade said that was the least of our worries. I don’t know what that means...but I honestly don’t think she does either. It’s for a good cause though, Navitas is old Metroplex’s buddy. He deserves someone he remembers back on planet.”

“So that’s what they want, Primus knows I left as soon as she told me about the money. Weird though...don’t his mechs need him though?” Breakdown shrugged unsure.

“Not as far as Windblade knows. The only Velocitronians she’s gotten into contact with are like...nomads. They don’t stick in one place because of the bad weather on the planet. She said they also got mechs that live underground. None of them live in Navitas so...maybe he went dormant like Metroplex did. That’s what she needs us for, to find out.”

Bulkhead drained his cube of fuel, dropping it to the table casually. “Still sounds shady. This doesn’t seem like the job that’s just worried about some nasty solar storms or some aggressive wildlife. Either she’s not telling you something or they’re not telling her.”

Breakdown nodded, he had that feeling too. Still...something was almost pulling him to say yes. To go to Velocitron. “Oh probably. It might just be spooky ‘cause all the unknown variables though. They said the poor guy got infested. Probably why they crash-landed...it’s just...why not just say with what? We’ve dealt with everything from scraplets to necrobots there’s nothing we haven’t learned to kill.”

“Maybe they just have company, ya know, natives of the sort. Like you said they crashed on a planet that wasn’t even cyberformed. That’s wild. I bet they’re weird looking by now, the ones forged on planet.”

“They’re supposed to be beautiful.” Breakdown swirled his nearly empty cube, watching a smooth ball of crystal run lines through the dregs. “Forged in desert sands. Tall and slim with frames coated in colored glass. Black metal underneath and black-rimmed optics that devour the sun. Old Megs said he ran into a few of them, and if he’d had a moment longer to get over himself he said he would have never let ‘em leave they were so damn pretty.”

“Oh, I see why you're really going now~” Bulkhead all but purred. “That ol’ berth feeling too cold with just you in it Breaky? Looking for a colonist though, that might bite you in the aft. Who knows what could they could have crossed code with you know.”  
“Nothing wrong with something unique Bulk, but I really do just feel bad for WIndblade. She wants this mission to go through and if she doesn’t get enough sorry slaggers like me it’ll never happen. I’m just hoping things are all just over exaggerations you know? We don’t exactly live in paradise but you couldn’t get me back on a Con ship if my life depended on it. No matter how much white noise I spew.” Bulkhead nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve been liking peace after all the slag I’ve been through.” Bulkhead’s touch returned to Breakdown’s shoulder but it was lighter, gentler. “Just know if you get into deep slag me and the boys will come bail you and whatever other idiots that femme charmed out. Don’t be ashamed to call.”

“Thanks, Bulk, that helps, not even joking.”

* * *

Breakdown rose bright and early three weeks later and packed everything he thought would be even remotely useful into his subspace before heading to the government building he was instructed to meet up at. The place was lively, the mechs working there helpful as they escorted him to the correct room.

As he opened the door, he was greeted to a familiar face and a few new ones. “Thundercracker? What’s got you here? I thought Starscream would be putting you to work in Vos.” The seeker’s wings dipped a bit as he turned and faced Breakdown, clearly not nearly as joyed to see Breakdown, not that Breakdown was all that joyed to see the aerial but it was a nice surprise. He certainly liked Thundercracker the most out of all of Starscream’s practically clone armada.

Still, Thundercracker sported a smile as he crossed the room to give Breakdown a congenial embrace. “He’s the reason I’m here. I lost at knife- grenade- gun. Nice to see you Breakdown.”

“Why in the world does he want in on this mission?” Thundercracker’s whole frame dipped as he sighed.

“Same reason these two are here. Velocitron is supposed to be loaded. They were nothing but rich mechs and scientists that went off with Navitas and the planet they landed on historically was a notorious spot for pirates to hide their loot since it used to be so dangerous. Now that the main sun went supernova a while back it’s not so bad. Plus WIndblade made a deal that if she got Starscream’s help and a portion of his budget money she’d consider setting the titan up in Vos as soon as he was stable.” Breakdown looked to the two femmes Thundercracker had motioned to. He’d never seen them before but they looked friendly enough.

“So...you two are what...treasure hunters?”

“Yup! Pretty good ones too if I do say so myself.” The two neared, servos out. Breakdown shook them both carefully. “Name’s Anode and this is my partner Lug. You can consider me as medical help though so don’t worry I’m not just here for my own gain. Lug here will keep us fueled. She knows how to find energon and any other rare material. Nice to meet you, Breakdown.” Breakdown’s helm bobbed as he nodded not knowing quite what to make of the two. They were likely Camaiens judging from how friendly they were and they seemed...eccentric... but it was nice to know they had a medic on board.

“Likewise. Sorry to say I can’t laud the same assistance. I’ve got basic first aid down but I’m just metal.”

“That’s a shame and here I thought she’d gotten Swindle to fool your whole idiot team into helping out.” Breakdown turned on his heel, rage shooting through him but it fizzled out as soon as the face met the voice. Hound. He’d been quite close to the mech when he ran around with Bulkhead. Never an actual wrecker himself because Impactor didn’t trust him the mechs that ran in the crew still had no trouble being friendly till he fell in line with the Cons.

“Over my dead chassis. I managed to get some self-respect over the years so you couldn’t pay me enough to lay under Motormaster’s heel again.” Hound’s smile widened.

“Good to hear. Let me introduce you to Trailcutter, he’s an outlier like you. Only his power doesn’t hurt him too. So it’s useful.”

Trailcutter cocked a hip and scoffed. “Speak for yourself. You ever gun your engine in your recharge and get trapped in a protective bubble for three hours? I don’t think so.” The light from his visor shifted to Breakdown. “What were you cursed with?”

Breakdown nervously rubbed at the back of his helm, unsure how to explain. “Sonic...destruction? When I gun my engine loud enough it can hurt other mechs. It used to make me a pretty shitty racer but I got a frame change and some help so I’ve got a handle on it now. Still makes my spark casing hurt so I don’t use it often.” Trailbreaker nodded.

“Can’t see why you would outside emergencies. I got a feeling it’ll come in handy on this little mission though.”

“Yeah, you won’t see me knocking it. It’s gotten me outta some nasty situations.” The slamming of the door ended the light conversation. In strolled Impactor in all his glory, Windblade right behind him her wings bouncing in time with her gait. Breakdown wasn’t surprised to see the Wrecker commander, this certainly seemed like a mission that was right up their alley but if the leader was there...then why was it only him and Hound? Certainly, the group couldn’t have taken that many hits.

“Well, look at all you sorry slaggers. Thanks for showing up. Means quite a lot to the lady here that your wills are as strong as your words.” Impactor’s gravelly voice boomed in the small space, his frame just as imposing as he took up nearly a quarter of the room alone. Windblade chuckled warmly as she slipped past him to the center.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. This mission wouldn’t have gotten funded without you and I certainly wouldn’t have gotten Wrecker support. We’ve got Impactor and Hound with us to start as you can see but if need be we have the whole team for rescue. I for one know I’m resting a little easier.” So that’s what Bulkhead had been getting at. And here Breakdown had thought it had been a personal promise. He supposed it had still been nice to hear from Bulkhead specifically but it took a bit of the sentiment away to know it was more of a requirement than a promise. “Now I’m not going to bore you rehashing. You know the details, you know the risks. We’ve got to get to the groundbridge as quick as possible and get through at a very specific time. So let’s head out. If there is anything at all any of you need, speak up now. We only have two hour leeway for any blunders.” Universally the group gave her an encouraging chorus of all good, showing off their heavy packs and firearms. “Looks good to me! We’ll gear up on planet. Impactor’s got everything for us and Override has some gifts for us too so we won’t have to worry about being melted alive.”

* * *

The first thought that ran through Breakdown’s head as he crossed over through the spacebridge was that Velocitron felt so familiar. Which of course was odd because he’d never once seen the place in his life. The shifting diamond sands, the velvet backed rainbow sherbet sky filled beyond with dozens of moons and planets that seemed close enough to touch but breakdown knew they were lightyears away, the towering pillars that seemed built up by some ancient species that had long been lost to time, the odd ruins of the beings that had come and gone. It was an odd place. Not something Breakdown would expect from posh Cybertonians making a new home for themselves.

The others seemed to agree. Anode dropping the shade of her visor to almost black to shield her optics from the blinding sun. “This is Velocitron? It looks uninhabited!” Windblade nodded as she fiddled with her communicator.

“A long time ago when Navitas first landed they had massive mechanical cities built in his likeness and they’d run to avoid the sun that threatened any living things chance on this planet. When the sun went supernova it killed nearly everyone that wasn’t on Navitas. He took them underground, to a secret oasis but the act of putting up a strong enough barrier sent him into a stasis they couldn’t wake him from. So they ventured out. That’s where most of them live now since energon is plentiful but a fair few chose to head above ground. They became nomadic, exploring all their planet had to offer. The weather can be harsh. It gets cold now that the sun is gone, they get massive wind storms, rains that flood the jungles. It’s safer underground but it’s not who they are. Not what the years of living here evolved them to be. Being on the run, living for the beauty of the sun and the stars is built in their sparks. They’re mainly solar-powered now, even underground they thrive off the energy the crystals give off rather than consuming them. It’s amazing how they adapted.”

“Did your contact say anything more about the infestation?” The whole group looked to Breakdown and the mech wished he hadn’t spoken up. Windblade just shook her head.

“Unfortunately not. Override gets real cagey when I bring it up. I think...I think she takes it as some sort of failure. I don’t know how or why but I think I have a theory.”

“What is it? Lug prompted, Breakdown was glad he wasn’t the only one still worried about the issue.

“I think...I think there are still mecha living in Navitas. Perhaps those from the original crash, those who couldn’t move on...who were too scared to venture out. I can’t imagine why she’s scared of them...but I’m not unfamiliar to religious cults concerning titans and Primes. They might not want outsiders, they might think one cycle Navitas is just going to wake up and save them. Who knows...but I’m almost sure that’s the case. Just...don’t bring it up when we meet up with Override alright? It’s a sore subject.”

Mecha? That made sense..but it made their mission seem a little unethical. Thankfully he didn’t have to bring the thought up. “So if there are mechs there...do we kill them if they give us trouble? What’s protocol here? Who matters more; them or Navitas?”

“They’re both equal Thundercracker. We’ve been supplied with immobilizer prods so I expect you to use them. I’m expecting some casualties sure...but Velocitronians shouldn’t be that strong. They’re racers with frames made of glass. Diamond infused glass but...still glass. They aren’t known for being strong. We’ll be taking them with us if we can. If Override and the others are that scared of them...I'm expecting that they’ve suffered some sort of mental lapse. ”

“They’re loonies is what you’re saying.”

“In less kind words unfortunately but again let’s keep our thoughts to ourselves Trailcutter. They’re almost here.”

Override and the rest of her mecha were just as the tales described. They glittered in the high sun, their frames taking in light, frames glowing from within. They looked almost nothing like Cybertronians at all anymore but they could still transform, still speed across the sands with their slick alts and thick tires.

They certainly weren’t ones for conversation that was for sure. Perhaps because they no longer spoke neocybex or even formal cybex. Override was the only one to speak, mostly to Windblade but she happily greeted the rest of the crew as she helped install protective shields and passed out clips of ammunition. Warning them in a whisper.

“Don’t let our thin armor fool you, without those bullets your best bet is to run for it. Normal lazer fire won’t damage one of us. Meley is your second best bet. Immobilizer is your third but that only affects our fields. It might not keep them down for long.” For a mech who wanted to beat around the bush, she all but confirmed WIndblade’s theory for her. So they were dealing with mecha. Strange that things couldn’t be handled civilly...and that Override was more than willing to send a team down to have them slaughtered.”

The trip to Navitas was a long freezing one, their shields were more than needed as they entered the area, a blizzard gripping the desert, snow and sand gunking tire treads and nicking metal. As Breakdown trudged through the building snow the strange feeling that plagued him now and then returned. This all felt so familiar. The snow. He had an odd memory of shoveling snow from the deck of...something. He must have stopped because he felt Impactor’s heavy servo slam lightly down on his shoulder. Breakdown couldn’t help but flinch, expecting the mech to scream and holler at him like he would back then, but he prompted gently, shaking his shoulder.

“You alright? You can turn the temperature of your shield up in your systems. Not that I thought a bot like you would need it.” Breakdown nodded, realizing how far he’d lagged behind the others. Impactor gave him a kind push forward. “Come on, almost there. I’d be seen as a joke if I lost a mech before we even got to the target.”

* * *

“Here he is. Right down here. We sealed off this access route ages ago. We blockaded them in. The energy barriers on all sides are impenetrable and I won’t risk turning them off till you kill Ransack. If you need to escape this is your only exit. Don’t forget where it is and don’t let anything get out. They don’t live very long regardless but better safe than sorry.”

The group stayed quiet, more confused with the new information. Blockaded? Had they formed some sort of revolt? What was going on?! One thing was for sure, every mech there was coming to terms with the growing realization that they really weren’t going to get any answers till they were absolutely in the thick of it all.

The hatch was unceremoniously opened and a stale smell seeped up. It smelled of dust and damp but nothing more sinister than that. Windblade turned to Override. “Once we have Ransack dealt with we’ll call you.” She turned to Impactor. “Does the rest of the team have our locations? Can I set up the emergency bridge?”

“We’ll set it up.” Override interrupted her. “Not that I don’t trust your team but they don’t know what they’re dealing with and they wouldn’t believe it if I told them. I’ll have some mechs stationed by just to make sure no one gets through that’s not supposed to.” Windblade nodded not bothering to fight and upset Override.

“Just don’t make it too far in case we have wounded. Anode is our only medic and she can’t carry a heavy mech that far.” Override looked grimly at the ladder that plunged deep into the metal of Navitas.

“Physical wounds will be the least of your worries. You’ll either come out alive or you won’t come out at all.” Windblade hid her grimace with a smile as she motioned to Impactor to hand the portable bridge over.

“Thank you for that Override but I do think you’re being a tad dramatic. I trust my team to handle anything that’s down there.” Override stared down at her, sorrow and pity in her optics.

“May Primus and anything that will listen have pity on your sparks.” Override motioned to her mech and took the large sack from Impactor. Thundercracker neared Windblade nudging her gently. Whispering as soon as he was sure Override was out of range.

“So there is a guy we need to kill? Windblade silently hushed him, waiting just a few moments longer to speak.

“Not if I can talk them down.”

“What makes you think you can when she talks about them as if they’re monsters? I’m not one for murder…but I’ve seen the things mechs can turn into when they mess with things they don’t understand. Lug and I only have so many “solutions” to those sorts of problems. Are you prepared to sacrifice Navitas for the good of the remaining Velocitronians?”

“Of course I am. I just don’t think it’s as bad as all that.”

“She said they blockaded them in. That doesn’t sound normal to me. Windblade sighed, she couldn’t exactly fight Trailcutter on that one.

“It’s weird. I’m not saying it isn’t...I just don’t want to go in thinking this is some sort of real-life witch hunt when all it is is some political difference turned bad.” Slowly the group’s attention turned back to the hole. “One thing's for certain, we are dealing with mechs. Something we know how to kill if absolutely necessary. This mission just got a hell of a lot easier if you ask me.”

Likely not the sentiment Windblade wanted to lead the mission off with, it was certainly the one they needed. Impactor gave a rallying “whoorah” as he headed first down the ladder. His bulky frame barely fitting the slim shaft.

It was a long silent way down. No one spoke, unsure of who could be hearing them and not wanting to give their position away. As they dropped to the floor below though it seemed the area they were in was truly well and abandoned. There was nothing in the place, just what could be considered a storeroom at best. A few boxes and large bits of broken equipment. Everything all too eerily quiet.

Things changed quickly as soon as they left the room. The halls grew ornate, plush electric blue carpet lined the floors and bright pink tracks of light scrolled in ornate patterns all along the wall. The end of the hall widened to a massive room, the space gilded and stylishly cluttered with sconces and statues. The center of it all was a massive fountain built around a statue of Quntius in all his glory a banner above his head in primal “To the stars, to the glory of the primes, To Velocitron.”

“Aww fuck. That lady wasn’t kidding. We really are going to die here aren't we?” Windblade grabbed Trailcutter roughly by the shoulder. Hushing him calmly but her optics were filled with fear.

“No one is going to die Trailcutter...not on purpose anyway and not if we stick together. If anything this could be a good sign. This place looks...well kept.” Trailcutter looked to the rest of the group, looked back to the fountain, the ornate furniture and ancient technology littering the grounds, then back to Windblade.

“Na, I’m pretty sure these guys are going to be straight up loonies. We should go back and get more bullets.”

* * *

Things went to the pit fast. Breakdown honestly couldn’t say what happened just that it happened in a blink of an optic. One klick they were alone, walking the empty quiet halls of the extravagant city they’d built inside the titan and then the next they saw mechs. Windblade tried to approach them, tried to be civil, but they looked at her as if they’d never seen a mech before in their life.

They didn’t look right. Less like the beautiful mechs that lived above the sands and more like some ancient creature that had been lost to the dark recesses of space. Their faces were gaunt, their armor hanging off as if there was nothing to their protoforms. Their claws and denta were overgrown fangs peeking out past their thin lips. Their optics were like foggy opals, glowing sickly mint, orange, or purple the brightest things on their dull lifeless forms.

“Listen I don’t care about what happened in the past between you and Override or whoever she works for. I’m here to help get you home.” One of the greasy looking femmes took a step forward, her posture straightening her gait smooth.

“Windblade is it?” Windblade took a cautious step forward, servo outstretched. The others behind the femme faces’ turned to sick smiles, thin brackish oil dripping from the corners of their mouths.

The femme herself, however, smiled warmly her optics brightening as she moved closer, mirroring Windblade. “Yes, if you could take us to whoever you consider in charge I’d-”

“Thanks so much for bringing us the fresh fuel dear~” The femme grabbed Windblade’s servo, electric purple shocks enveloped her then spread quickly to Windblade. The femme screaming in shock and agony.

Chaos ensued. How could it not? Breakdown just didn’t expect it to be just as chaotic as it turned out. Bullets and gunsmoke fogged the area but to these mechs, it seemed to do nothing. Not with the abilities they had...they seemed to be...outliers...all of them. Their cold-blooded laughter filled the space as they attacked. All sorts of terrors Breakdown could barely remember following. The shields Override had given them were there only saving grace but there was energon. At some point, Breakdown couldn’t tell from who or if any of his teammates were okay. His reasonable thought seized by the sound and smell of scrapletts.

They were everywhere, everywhere, everywhere! Breakdown didn’t know where to turn, didn’t know where to run! Who to fight, who to help! There was thick noxious fog, screaming from all around, he couldn’t seem to find anyone.

Then it all just faded to black. They should have listened to Override, they should have never come down here.

Breakdown didn’t expect to wake up to some slinky lookin demon prodding at him with a big syringe but then again he didn’t expect to wake up at all.

“Eugh! You’re alive. Bummer.” Breakdown could barely see the mech through the static in his vision. Something was broken that was for sure. What he could see was lanky and blue with glowing sea green optics. “He’s useless Salvage, let’s move on!”

“Hey!” Breakdown tried to call out but the only sound he was able to emit was a pained groan. The slim mech wrenched away, instantaneously halfway across the room.

“He’s waking up. Get me out of here!” An almost more painful groan droned in response. Breakdown tried to move to see the other mech in the room with them but his frame refused to budge. Whatever the response was, the other mech didn’t like it.

“No~ It’s too dangerous! You’ll have to drag him all the way there! We’ll collect glitches like flies!” Another booming wail responded.

“I don’t care! He’s been running around without a heavy duty for years now he’s fine! Screw him!” A much more curt, disappointed wail replied. “Fine! Fine, we’ll take him but you better hope Schism gives me something good for it or you’re going to be running low for weeks as punishment. Grab him.”

Breakdown did not like the sound of that but he honestly had no real say on the matter as his frame was still practically offline and unusable. Low fuel warnings flashed in the corner of his HUD along with multiple other distress alerts.

If Breakdown thought he was a big bot than Salvage was a one-man gestalt. Not exactly that tall but he loomed over Breakdown as he knelt down to grab his leg. Breakdown tried to twist and squirm, anything to resist being dragged to who primus only knew but today just wasn’t his cycle.

He knew shouting would get him nowhere considering how he’d ended up in the situation in the first place but Breakdown refused to believe he’d been the only one to make it out alive. He frantically went through his comms as he felt his frame scrape across the floor. Static filled his audials no matter what number he used and no matter how hard he screamed for help. He quickly grew desperate, opening an open channel for anyone that could hear him in the chaos.

Only static responded. Breakdown had to give up the ghost, he was alone for now. He had to solve his own problem or he’d be dead soon with only himself to blame for being so stupid. As he was shutting down as many alerts as possible and focusing on any and all solutions to his predicament an alert pinged in his HUD. An invitation to a private servo. Breakdown considered it, weighed the pros and cons and answered.

“Well, well, well. Looks like you’ve got yourself in a bit of trouble there heavy duty. Would you like some help from old Bunsen?”


	2. Chapter 2

“First get yourself sorted the best you can, then shoot the blue speedy twink. Prepare for a bash, then run like mortilus’ scavengers are after ya. Salvage is an ol’ softee that loves his speedy more than his damn life. The damn things are as tough as primes but Blurr’s a right brat and Salvage will run him off for help once you stop being a threat. Got me?”

Breakdown couldn’t say he did. It could have been the still prevalent head trauma or the mech’s thick accent but he managed to glean the core concepts. Shoot the blue mech then run. A smart enough plan if what the mystery mech on the other line said was right about the mech hauling him like he was nothing. Breakdown managed to online his shoulder cannon, conserving what little energy he had left to let it warm. His comm crackled with empty static but the mech on the line returned.

“That’s it, big guy. Careful of the power with that thing, best to go for the legs. If you manage to kill the speedy, Salvage will go mad and be after your head. Got me?”

Made sense. Judging from just the short interaction he’d witnessed of the two it was obvious they were close. The last thing Breakdown needed was a mech that big chasing after him. Thankfully being laid out on the floor, he had a great angle and Blurr had a lot of leg to shoot. Deep in conversation with each other, neither of his captors saw the shot coming.  
Like Bunsen warned as soon as Blurr screamed Salvage dropped him. The light behind the mech’s visor turning a warning deep maroon. Breakdown didn’t have much time to act seeing as there were no other mechs in the area that could be the attacker and Salvage wasn’t as stupid as one might assume. He turned on a dime back to Breakdown, his servo transforming into a massive hammer.

Breakdown rolled as the weapon nearly slammed down on his head. Pushing himself to his peds he made a run for the first door he saw, trying his best to ignore the heavy clang of pedsteps behind him and the enraged wails echoing off the walls of the empty room. As soon as he got through the door though and it slammed shut tight behind him there were few loud clangs and bashes but everything went quiet just like Bunsen promised. His comm crackled, Bunsen in his audial again.

“Great, but you’re not out of the woods yet. You made a good call on your exit, found yourself a lobby. Look around for a cooler and bash it. Energon’ll be stale as sewer air and just as acidic but it’ll keep you running. Got me?” Breakdown didn’t need to be asked twice, his vision was already swimming and his engine was struggling to even keep him walking. Still, now that he was out of immediate danger common sense was returning to Breakdown a bit.

Rebooting his vocalizer he called quietly into his comm as he searched the massive ornate lobby. “Not that I don’t appreciate the help, but who exactly the Pit are you and how can you see me?” Static crackled for a long moment and Breakdown worried this was going to be a one-sided relationship but as he set sights on a massive glowing vending machine Bunsen responded.

“That’s a bit of a loaded question. You might as well ask why things are as fucked up as they are down here. It’s one in the same honestly. Short answer. I can see anything and everything I want in a fair distance as long as there are mechs or cameras lookin’. Delta is filled with cameras and littered with mechs so I got optics everywhere.”

“Delta?” Breakdown couldn’t help but run his servo down the intricate design of the machine. It had been built to be attractive that much was obvious and it was. The dark blue contrasted with the lively electric teal of the light and the contents behind the glass and the ethereal mech offering his customer a cube with a cheeky smile and a wink was artfully forged. It was such an odd piece of art to be just sitting in an abandoned lobby just attached to some vending machine. Too bad he was starving he really didn’t want to smash the thing.

“It’s what we call the place. What we called it before we all got stuck down here. We made Navitas our capital. Made him to our liking, beautiful just like us. Made him a friggin’ empire if you ask me! We had it all heavy duty, we were making a name for ourselves! Colonies of our own. Booming industries. Trade deals up our afts! You couldn’t go to another planet without hearing about us, the lunatics that conquered the gilded inferno. Then it all crashed and burned. Who knows what the rest of them are doing now, not like I care. I ain’t leaving Delta, one day I’ll get the old slagger up.” Breakdown nodded to himself as he punched through the glass of the vending machine. Compressed co2 and flecks of ice plumed free as he reached in to pilfer the contents.

“Sounds like you’re the guy Override said we should look out for. That’s what got me into trouble. I was with a team sent from Cybertron.” Eagerly biting in the cube Breakdown chugged the ice-cold fuel emptying the glass with a sigh. “I do gotta know though, what in the Pit is wrong with everyone here. I didn’t expect isolated mechs to be normal...but they’re acting like dark worlders down here!”

“Cybertron? Well, ride my damn bumper. I thought we’d never get a sign from them. Thought you lot were too busy killing yourselves to fuss over us.”

“Well,” Breakdown cracked into another cube. Stashing the other four in his subspace to keep himself from flooding his engine. The others might need fuel too if he found them, being greedy now might be the death of a friend later. “We’re done with that for the most part. Got tired of it I think. I don’t really know. One cycle there was just a word that went out, no more war, come home. So I did and it was legit. So what happened here?”

“What always does Breaky boy, hubris. Like I told ya’ we had everything here on Velocitron, brains, money, stupid metal to do the rest and nothing but time. We had it grand. Thanks to the deathtrap we landed on and being of higher intelligence than most in the galaxy we were actually able to use this place to our advantage. So we did. You know energon, the stuff your drinking right there, well we got better stuff.”

Still exhausted and a bit wary of his savior Breakdown sat his aft down on one of the plush couches and sunk down with a groan.“Better stuff than this? This is the best energon I’ve had in a few centuries.”

“Oh yeah. We found something way better hiding in the crusts of this place. It made us Primes Breaky boy. You want to control something? You got it! Time, space, physics, elements, fauna, pests, anything you can think of! You want to be as strong as twenty mechs?! You can! You want to see the future, the past, anything at all? You can command your destiny! All it took was a little genetic formula and one very important ingredient. Vis. A type of energon that shines and glows like an opal. It’s a money maker Breaky boy! I’m talking billions of dollars for a single rock and it was lining the dirt our cities raced on. Thing is when you’re all gods and everything goes to slag, who’s to lead? Who’s to say? Who’s to follow and obey. Not so easy. So we had a go at each other, our own civil war. Don’t let those freaks think they left of their own accord PIT NO! They fled from Ransack and they locked up anyone too slow or stupid to get away.”

Breakdown set his empty glass down on the fine lapis table. “So...did this stuff drive mechs mad? What’s their issue? The fraggers that attacked me and my friends wanted to kill us for our fuel. You got it still hanging around in places like it’s nothing and I’m sure you got some way to get to mines.”  
“Well~” Bunsen drawled. “Vis does have some nasty withdrawal effects but honestly those freaks are just hopped on speed. It’s what they turn to when they can’t get Vis. Got ‘em glitched. They think anyone who’s walking around fine and well has a tank of Vis, and they want it. Especially if you got powers, outliers and the like. It’s best to stay away from mechs like them the best you can. Got me?”

“Right.” Breakdown could feel the adrenaline waning, the crash zapping his will. He felt exhausted despite his now full tanks and his frame was demanding recharge so it could heal itself. “Bunsen, could you do me a favor? Keep a watch on me while I rest and heal up? Then maybe you can help me find my friends. If you really want to get Navitas and this city running again we’ll need Windblade at least.”

“Sure thing. Rest easy heavy duty, ol’ Bunsen’s got your back~”

* * *

“Where you got me headed Bunsen?” Breakdown had woken up groggy but refreshed, the dull ache finally chased from his frame and his thoughts clear and on track. His new friend wasted no time making it plans it seems and was eager to put them in motion urging him to get a move on as quickly as he could. It was for the best, in his recharge the lobby had filled with “glitched” mechs, not in any way hostile it seemed when they thought you were as drugged out as they were.

It was easy sneaking around the skeletal frames, too offlined and blitzed out to make any sudden moves to chase him. Breakdown had to admit, waking up to the sight of the company nearly gave him a panic attack and he wanted to cuss Bunsen out for practically letting the lunatics surround him but once he calmed down he reasoned the mech knew his mecha better and how to stay alive.

“We need a speedy of our own. We won’t be getting Navitas to do anything without one. Got me?”

“What exactly is a speedy now? You all kind of got racers builds so...isn’t that a little redundant?” Bunsen scoffed a laugh on the other end.

“Yeah, from an outsider I can see why you might think that. Speedys aren't just fast-moving, they’re fast everything. They were certain sparks from the Well, got me? Hot little models whos sparks burn real bright.” Bunsen sighed wistfully. Breakdown didn’t find the information all that helpful. Sure point one-percenters and that ilk of mech were useful but they weren’t that great. Thankfully Bunsen wasn’t finished “Ya’ see Delta doesn’t just run like it does on nothing. Even unresponsive, Navitas needs energon, he needs Vis to run as smooth as we got him. A hell of a lot more than the standard mech here.”

“Explains all the glitched slaggers. There’s not enough to go around.”

“Exactly. Pain turns them to other options, they become drugged up wackos with their own set of issues and damages. Thing is, we learned a trick you see. The speedys...Vis takes to em’. Pop ‘em with special serum, line their spark casings with a bit of the raw stuff and they start producing it like its nothing! They’re full of the stuff. Not for the common mech though, no, maybe when things had been good when being a speedy was a job...but not now. Now, they take care of Navitas, keep him running. That’s why they got heavy duties to protect them from being slaughtered.” Well, that was something then wasn’t it. Breakdown couldn’t help but feel bad for shooting Blurr, the poor thing must have been under enough stress living down here as it was. He could only hope what Bunsen said about them being fast healing was true.

“If that’s true...then who’s exactly leading the show here? Ransack? They work for him?”

Static crackled for a long moment before Bunsen returned. Breakdown had to wonder what his strange new friend was doing between helping to keep him alive. “They work for Navitas and that’s it. Maybe Schism...but she makes them so it’s a bit weird there. Not sure if they all actually like her but they answer her calls if you catch my drift. They need her somewhat so they play nice.”

Made sense, if anything could make sense in this Pit. “Sure...but how are we supposed to get one if they’re protected?”

“One’s not. His heavy duty went MIA, Schism couldn’t track it and there wasn’t another big bot to mangle into one. Not like he needs one. Knock Out’s vicious.” That jogged Breadown’s memory. The conversation of the two mechs who’d tried to steal him away. They’d mentioned a Schism, wanting to take them to her for someone else. Could that have been this Knock Out?

“Saving me might have been moot then. I think that’s where they wanted to take me in the first place.”

“They wanted to take you to Schism herself. You don’t want to go there, got me? You...you just don’t, not with your build heavy duty.” Bunsen sounded much more serious than he had at that. The femme must be quite the threat. “Going right to Knock Out is your best bet. You might confuse him...if he doesn’t kill ya on the spot.” That forced Breakdown to take some concern.

“Excuse me?!” Bunsen sighed wearily.

“I never said this was gonna be easy but he’s better than Schism because he’s gone mad. Just because he doesn’t have a heavy duty or fraggin need one doesn’t mean he doesn’t want one. If he sees something he likes on a mech, arm, leg, helm, what have you? He’ll lure ‘em in. He’s full of fucking Vis, has pheromones that puts mechs into standby, makes ‘em see slag that's not there, kills them if he wants so it’s like shooting beasts in a cage! He takes what he wants. Builds his own heavy duty, at least that’s what he thinks he’s doing. He stays in one of the salvage rooms of the ship, that’s where he keeps his little guard. I need to stress they are not alive, got me. No matter how strong he gasses you to make you see slag. He’s alone down there. You can take him, just squeeze ‘em hard enough. If you can stay alive and play nice...he might just start following you around.”

“Are you serious?” The line stayed quiet, Breakdown continued to call, practically begging for more information but Bunsen had made his point. He was alone in this and he likely wasn’t going to get any help finding his team if he didn’t complete the task. “Alright, I got it. Just give me a location at least. I don’t exactly want to be running blind in this place.”

After a long moment Breakdowns inbox pinged with a download file. He loaded it into his maps and nearly gasped at the size of place they were dealing with. He knew titans were large but to imagine this was all just underground, abandoned and ignored for eons...it seemed impossible.

* * *

It seemed his size served him well in the ruins of Navitas, as he wandered almost blindly through the still beautiful city of Delta instead of attackers trying to murder him for his energon he got pitying stares. They seemed to think he was a mad mech, a heavy duty without a speedy of his own, at least that was what he could overhear. It made sense now why Bunsen would want him to steer clear of Schism, who assumedly made the heavy dutys as well as the Speedys. What did she do to make them the way they were together, so dependent on each other emotionally? He could only wonder.

The calm of being one among the lunatics though did make it easier to really appreciate the lives the Deltites were living. They did still have energon and a functioning society, as functioning as it could be with everyone drugged out of their minds or hyped up with god-like powers but still, it was more than Breakdown expected after the first attack. Fearing he’d have to smash in skulls down every hall instead of having a nice stroll. The place was also considerably empty which helped quite a bit, it seemed Ransack only had so many followers that were stupid enough to stay with him when the others left. Fled, Bunsen said fled. What sort of ability must the mech have to get other mechs to flee from him? It had to be especially bad.

He didn’t like being treated like a handymech though, that was a little annoying. Sure he was one in his day to day but to have random lunatics calling him over for a broken pipe or a sparking light gave him panic attacks. He didn’t know how to fix anything down here! Thankfully with a few grunts and groans and a slam of his hammer most assumed he’d either deduced the problem and gone off to get the supplies to fix it. Nothing better than rich idiots as Swindle used to say.

He was relieved to be free of most of the populated areas though, there were, of course, some mechs he couldn’t fool and they were quite rude and violent when he didn’t fix whatever problem they needed done. The silence and calm of Navitas old storerooms and maintenance halls were peaceful even if Breakdown couldn’t help but look over his shoulder again and again at every noise.

At that point with his spark calm, it just became a game of eye spy. Delta had almost fifty storage rooms but Breakdown had a feeling Knock Out wouldn’t be in the deeper ones. It would be hard to convince a mech to go that low, so he ticked off the closest ones he could find. Maybe it was just out of selfishness though, since his own main goal was to find any sign of his teammates as he could. Not that that was going well either, unfortunately.

As he was trudging through some cramped access tunnel he found something that gave him a clue for both his predicaments. A bright golden ped sitting in a pool of energon.

“Shit” Breakdown raced to it, not positive it was Impactors’ just yet...but there wasn’t much room to deny it as he inspected the thing. It weighed a ton and was stuffed with hidden weapons. He turned on his comm system and spammed Impactor’s frequency hoping if the mech was close by and still alive he might get something.

It was looking a lost cause till a pained groan filled his audials. “Wwhhosat? I’m a little busy here at the moment.” He didn’t sound nervous in the slightest, not even stressed. He sounded drunk.

“Impactor! It’s Breakdown! Where are you?”

“Ah, Breaky~ We’re at the bar...I think. Me an’ Hound. Met a cute little bot promised to get us some fuel. How you doin’?”

“How am I doing?! Impactor-”

“Impactor~ Who are you talking to?” Breakdown’s attention all but locked on the distant sing-song voice coming from Impactor’s comm. It made his spark pulse just a bit, made his vision go pink at the edges. That had to be Knock Out.

“Impactor you gotta get out!”

“Pshaw! Don’t be a dud Breakdown~ Come join us I’ll send you the coordinates!” Outraged fury kept Breakdown’s mind clear.

“What!? Impactor! What happened to Windblade? To the lovebirds? Did you call the other wreckers in? You need to leave or Knock Out’ll rip you apart!” Impactor just laughed.

“The sweet thing I’m staring at? Not a chance! Come join us! Ey! Pretty bot, come and tell Breaky to come get a drink and relax!”

“Breakdown?~” Knock Out’s voice leaked like a velvet poison across the line. The single word gripping Breakdown’s spark and splashing his vision in a rosy haze. “Come join us Breakdown!” For a moment he wanted to do nothing more, his legs moved on their own, blindly following the dying trail of energon through the heavy doors that separated the space.  
Then there was static and Bunsen’s soft almost threatening growl. “Hang up the call Breakdown.”

“They need me, they want me.”

“I SAID HANG UP THE DAMN CALL, GOT ME!” The rosy tint cracked down the middle of Breakdown’s vision, the bland tones of the backroom leaking back in.

“I can’t! I need the coordinates!”

“I SAID HANG UP! HE CAN FRAGGING HEAR YOU AND HE-”

“Breakdown~ Breakdown~ You sound so handsome~ Please, join us. Let’s have fun!”

“I SWEAR TO PRIMUS YOU DUMB THICK FUCK-” Breakdown turned his whole comm off, his processor starting to freak out. The silence soothed the throbbing in the back of his helm. Slumping to the floor he dry heaved into an empty box but thankfully managed to keep his fuel down as his spark and frame cooled.

He risked turning his line back on after a long break. Bunsen still calling. “I’m back, ‘em back. Just needed a break. Don’t think your powers were mixin’ well. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Bunsen’s weary laugh sounded a little irritated, a little crazed but certainly relieved. “No problem heavy duty, no problem. Just try to do what I tell ya’ I’m trying to keep you alive down here!”

“Right, yeah.” Breakdown wasn’t stupid enough to think Bunsen was just being kind, he had an agenda but that didn’t mean he wasn’t also trying to help. “I got a feeling you didn’t know he could do that?”

Bunsen’s growl said all it needed to. “He couldn’t! Ransack was the only mech with that code, no one else got it he kept if for his damn self and for good fucking reason! How do you think he became such a threat! There was NO WAY that little SPEEDY should have it! NO WAY! We’re fragged, Breaky boy. Real fragged.”

“Codes? Is that how you get these special powers? It doesn’t like...just unlock abilities? Like outliers back home?”

“Pit...smart thinking Breaky that had to be what happened. Not that someone remade the code and is just giving it away like IDIOTS that can’t be it.” The line gently went silent, leaving Breakdown with his thoughts and worries. Slowly he got to his peds and continued to follow the trail to Knock Out’s hiding spot.

Bunsen quickly returned. “WHAT THE PIT YOU THINK YOU’RE DOIN’ I TOLD YOU IT WAS A LOST CAUSE!”

“I need to save my friends Bunsen!”

“For Primus’ sake Breaky boy! You need to break a few damn cubes to get the priss to ride your rod! Just let ‘em have ‘em! It’ll keep him busy and out of our circuits! You don’t know what he’s like!”

Breakdown shoved a mess of boxes out of his way, ignoring Bunsen. “I’m going, whether you want me to or not. If they’re disposable, then so am I.”

“PRIMUS~ Fine, fine! But to the pit if I’m letting you go in there unarmed. Check your map. We’re going to get you some codes.”

* * *

It was a detour but Breakdown reasoned to himself that Bunsen had a point. He only had one trick up his sleeve that wasn’t his shotgun or his blaster and it was just barely under his control. Still, he had some concerns.

“Won’t I get addicted? End up like the glitches lying around?”

“Not your first go, pit not even your tenth go. Just space it out and you’ll be fine. What you see around you is millennia worth of damage. Sure your spark and processor might hurt for a bit when you stop but it’s nothing worse than a light hangover. Trust me, I quit and survived. Now I only do shots of the stuff when I need to use my powers. It can be touch and go but it’s better than being one of them poor slaggers.

“I still need codes right? Before I can even get my servos on the Vis I need them to get the powers. How we going to get them?”

“Well,” Bunsen’s voice cut in and out as Breakdown backtracked to the more popular part of Delta, putting on his rough heavy duty act smacking a pipe or a door every now and then with his hammer if he came across a large group of locals. “You could stop acting the handymech and try to swap code with one of those fine feckers but it might give you a virus so...we’re going to have to do something a tad risky.” Why was Breakdown not surprised?

“Uh-huh?”

“Gotta head to the medical sector to see Spectra. He’s the old fragger that helped create the codes all the cycles past. Override tried to kill him off when he wouldn’t align himself with her so he’s a bit dinged in the head. It’s his main goal to turn Navitas into a Prime of his own when he eventually reawakens. Wants to install every code he’s ever written into the old bot. He’ll give you some good ones for a decent cube and the news you want to get Navitas really running again.”

Well, that didn’t sound too dangerous. “What’s the catch?”

“Schism hangs out in the same area. You do not want to even be seen by one of her speedies or heavy duties or it’ll be back to the start of our beautiful friendship and I might not be able to save you a second time.”

“Got it.” Breakdown let the line go quiet but his worries wouldn’t quiet. “What’s the chance my friends got with Knock Out you think Bunsen?”

“Are they sturdy feckers as you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then pretty good I say. Knock Out’s not used to live heavies that aren’t his own. He won’t have much to change if he likes them.”

“Are you just saying that to get me to go ahead with your plans or do you really believe that?” Silence bloomed between the two and Breakdown figured Bunsen wasn’t going to answer. He had the right, no matter what he said he was going to to do what the mech wanted. He knew better, Breakdown was smart enough to admit that. Not to mention the more he searched this place the better chance he had at finding more of his team. Those slaggers that attacked them had injured Windblade pretty bad and if this place had some actual medical personnel he might find her there.

Bunsen almost spooked him when he finally replied. “To be honest Breaky boy I don’t know. Knock Out’s a real wildcard. He’s...well, he’s an old speedy. Vis has had time to sit with his spark, do things to him, unlock things. Plus he’s smart. He doesn’t just rely on Schism for everything, makes his own rules, his own life. He’s terrifying, he really is. It’s...it’s because he’s angry. I don’t think he wanted to be a speedy, most of them you know...just don’t care, just deal with what happens...but Knock Out makes it personal. If you attack him, he’ll kill ya and he won’t make it quick.” Breakdown could sense the true terror in Bunsen’s voice as he spoke about Knock Out. He had to wonder what sort of things a mech had to do to make a stoic mech that Bunsen seemed to be truly terrified.

“He likes big bots though? That’s his one weakness?” Bunsen snorted loudly across the line.

“He loves ‘em yeah. Don’t know why, either it’s a personal glitch or it’s Schism at her finest. What she does to the speedies, to the heavy duties...it’s….not right. Then again, she wasn’t paid to be normal back in the day. She was made to make walking talking Vis factories. Without the speedys keeping things running, this place would really go to slag. A necessary evil.”

Breakdown checked his map as he came across a magnificent set of stairs. The steps done of crystal and gold and carpeted by plush green fabric. It was still clean, still smelled of perfume and soap. Even in ruins, the prisoners of Delta lived in luxury. “What’s up here Bunsen?”

“Leads to the old shopping district. You might find some mechs still up there but you’ll need a code to get in so they know you’re not blasted out your mind. It changes every cycle. You need some new tires or something? Get shot where I can’t see? I don’t think your credits will be any good but they’ll certainly take your labor if you want to risk your friends losing another ped.”

“Good point, just figured maybe Knock Out would go for a trade you know? He’s one of you, he likes luxury.” Bunsen laughed, it dripped with pity.

“He’s got Vis Breaky, he can get anything he wants short of a mech’s spark, pit, he can get that.”

“Right, right. I’ll get a move on then.” Breakdown didn’t know if it was smart to warn Bunsen that he felt a little sick, that he could still see the light pink tinge at the corners of his optics. That his spark pulsed so strongly in his chest. That he couldn’t get Knock Out out of his mind. Not simply because he knew Impactor and maybe even Hound could be in danger but...it was just the mech himself. His voice sounded so familiar, the sweet way he called his name...did he call every mech that way? Why did he care so much? It just didn’t make any sense.

* * *

Breakdown could tell the medical quarter by the smell. There were a fair few heavy duties out in the halls protecting the place or scrubbing the finely detailed metal walls and waxing the crystal halls. Their lithe speedies either perched on their shoulders talking their audials off or resting languidly in a pile comforted by a nest of support blocks and thermal covers on top of what must have been a decorative platform that once held a massive statue or the like. Perfect for keeping them all in sight.

Thankfully Blurr and Salvage were not among them, so Breakdown engaged his construction mask, switched out his hammer, and lumbered forward at a gait that even a paver alt would consider slow. The other heavy duties paid him no mind but the speedies optics followed him the second they noticed. Their voices suddenly growing hushed and impish. Breakdown strained to hear them and found a blush tinting his face at what he heard.

Bunsen’s crackling voice nearly startled him enough to shout. “I think they like ya Breaky boy. Walk a little faster before they get really interested, got me?” Breakdown picked up the pace, having a bunch of inquisitive followers the last thing he needed.

“So, do they all just do this in their off time. Hang out, keep each other safe?”

“Sometimes yeah, when the heavy duties got orders. This ain’t their preferred form of leisure activity though if you catch my drift. For the speedies at least...not so sure about the heavy duties I don’t know how much they think anymore. I’m sure they don’t mind a bit...shame really.” Breakdown spared a second glance at the pile of speedys, they seemed pretty content to him. What more could they want? What other sorts of fun was left to be had in the rundown city?

“Don’t think I follow, no. There other things to do still for fun around here?” Breakdown could hear the other mech laughing.

“Yeah sure, there are baths and galleries and movies and the lot. Still enough sane mechs to run shops and salons like I said but-” another bout of laughter split his words, “Ah just bless ya, you really are from Cybertron.”

Well, that was a clue. “Oh!” Breakdown looked one of the close heavy duties up and down, the mech three times any of the speedys’ size. “With these guys? How! Why?”

“Well~” Bunsen drawled cheekily, “I don’t mean to mention on their preferences other than it’s their business, but for the why...it goes back to Vis. Speedies produce vis just living but depending on how strong their spark is the rate is different but one good spark surge and their tanks fill up till their choking on the stuff. You can pump a damn speedy for cycles before their spark can’t take it anymore.”

Breakdown didn’t quite like the gruesome imagery his mind conjured up for him. It made more sense now why the poor things had such big bodyguards. “But quite a few mechs don’t play all that nice with them. I’d keep to one of them too if that was my fate.”

“True words Breaky boy but don’t think they’re helpless on their own. They can and have killed mechs for just looking at them wrong. Keep your distance.

“You keep telling me, yeah. Not that I doubt you it’s just I think you’d really gotta tick them off to get ‘em to do that.”

“For the most of them likely, I’ll give you that. Maybe I’ve just been too busy trying to get at Knock Out to care about the others' attitudes.” Knock Out again.

“Is there something special about him other than he’s old and alone?”

“Oh yeah Breaky, he makes the best Vis. Strong as a punch straight to the spark. Don’t let me hype it up for ya, you might get to try some for yourself. Don’t want to ruin it.”

Breakdown doubted that, the idea of hurting Knock Out simply so beyond him despite what a terror of a mech he may be. Thankfully he'd successfully gotten past the weak guard and was greeted by a large statue of Valtudo herself. The bright cheery femme never without her raw energon and spark of life imagery. It was almost nostalgic to see her there, most of Cybertron’s old architecture been long since destroyed. Not that he had any trust in any of the medical mechs that likely took up the space. The statue did nothing for that. Breakdown was happy to have Bunsen in his audial at that moment.

“Well, well! You fake being a drone pretty good. You’re lucky that Schism is on the lower levels take the stairs up and try not to get too claustrophobic.”

Breakdown took a look up the massive staircase that narrowed considerably as it snaked up each side of the wall, eventually disappearing where he couldn't see. “I gotta ask Bunsen, are there any decent medics left in this place? If I get Impactor and Hound outta there they might need help I can’t give ‘em. It would be nice if I knew I had someplace to go.”

“Back where you were itching to go. Most the sane ones don’t bother coming around here anymore. They’ve stolen what they could ages ago. Real help comes at a price but they might take some sympathy on you if you can promise to take them with ya if you get free. One less medic means less help for the glitches here but screw ‘em. The smart ones left already know how to fix themselves up.”

“Windblade planned on getting you all out as soon as we dealt with Ransack. I hope she’s okay, I don’t know what we’re going to do if those glitches gutted her for something she didn’t even have.”

“Really? Well, Breaky boy then I hope so too, I’d sure as the pit like to get outta here myself. You know how long it’s been the sun? A crying shame for a frame as nice as mine.”


	3. Chapter 3

Breakdown’s shoulders scraped each side of the wall as the hall closed in on him. This place really was built for one type of bot, thankfully he fit at all. Even more thankful that the place was well maintained because with the grungy walls and foil copies of paperwork past suffocating what room was left for him Breakdown would have been sure any moment he would crash through the floor.

Spectra heard him coming, the mech’s head peeking out from a slim door at the end of the hall, his thick visor masking most of his face. “Who’s there? I ain’t got nothing new for Schism so you can head back where you’re from!” Breakdown tried to find his voice, then remembered his mask likely muffling anything he was saying. Spectra slunk back clearly spooked but poked his head back out after a klick. “You ain’t one of Schism’s, where in the world did you drop from?”

“Cybertron. You’re the code bot right?” Spectra’s audials perked up.

“That I am, quick come inside!” Well, that was easier than Breakdown figured it would be. Maybe he really was a lunatic. As Breakdown pushed himself into the room the feeling was cemented. The room was wall to wall with computer monitors, most of the space filled with the mainframes to handle the processors and fans they needed and the massive cooling unit to keep them all from overheating. Lines of code were on every screen except one where the mech was playing sudoku. Breakdown couldn’t tell if he was winning. “What you bring me for trade?” Breakdown stalled, unsure, Bunsen just said a cube would work but that didn’t seem nearly enough. He pulled it out anyway.

“Just some fuel I collected along the way...but I’d be happy to do you a favor if you need it.” Spectra waved him off as he took the fuel.

“No need, I know it’s lunacy out there. The vis on the other servo, you’ll need to get yourself. I can give you a hit, something good for one attack at best but then you gotta make your own way.” Breakdown nodded.

“You think any of the speedies down the stairs trade for it? They didn’t seem like they were doing anything.” Spectra’s visor bloomed light.

“Oh they’re down there? Well then perhaps you can do something for me! I make little treats for them you see, suckers, taffy, the like. They like it quite a bit. Likely because it has the same effects as fog coincidentally but harmless to them. They’ll trade what they can for a bag and as long as you get back without bringing any tails with you I’ll put some in some vials for you.” Breakdown couldn’t help but laugh to himself, this place really was just one big speed den. No wonder Navitas wasn’t waking up, he was probably in a drug coma.

“No problem. They looked like they were going to be there a while.”

“Great! So, tell me, what you interested in?” Breakdown figured he should have been thinking about that on his walk over. He’d been too busy thinking about his friends. Maybe the mech would know about them? Buy him time to think.

“You uh...you run into any other strangers?” That apparently wasn’t the answer to his question the mech had been expecting. He didn’t seem put off by it though.

“Moony came in with one. Pretty femme with a few nasty wounds. Strange to see how aerials have evolved after all these years.” That had to have been Windblade.

“Who’s Moony?”

“A right pain in the aft. Augh, you gotta be kidding me!” Breakdown ignored Bunsen, hoping Spectra could give him a more informative answer. He was quickly rewarded.

“She’s the warden. Override left her down here to keep Ransack and the rest of his party in check and keep those who were too scared to leave or couldn’t risk it safe.” Breakdown nodded, at least Windblade sounded in safe servos at the moment.

“B-before I get on with what I’m here for...can I ask...why didn’t you want to go with Override?” Spectra turned sharply from him back to his computer, the mech preemptively pulling up files simply so he could ignore Breakdown’s question. “I ain’t going to judge ya or nothing, I don’t know or really care who was right in this situation you got yourselves in I just...should we be wary of her?”

“I certainly think so...after what she did to Knock Out.” Back to Knock Out again.

“What did she do to him? He wasn’t always a speedy?”

“No...not exactly.” Spectra whispered gravely. “He used to be a bit of a renaissance mech around here, when we were above ground and all. Medic, engineer,bot of the mecha. He was well liked and he was smart. Override wouldn’t have had a ped to stand on if she didn’t have him in her corner. She saved him from an early grave when a crash nearly killed him. So...in a way he was one of the first ever speedys, before they were ever a thing, before they were ever a job! They kept it secret. Kept him safe. Till things went wrong down here. If she’d just left it at that, just let him leave...maybe I could still respect her...but she went and lost it.” Breakdown couldn’t help but pull a sturdy looking crate over for himself to sit on.

“Go on, please.” He couldn’t place why but for some reason Breakdown had a feeling he knew where this story was going.

“She thought he wanted power for himself. Use Ransack’s little riots to his own advantage. You see the Vis unlocked an underlying code in him. I called it “Rosey gold glossia” when I rewrote it. He could make a mech see things, see things that weren’t there just by speaking it into existence. He was a perfect foil for Ransack. The two butted helms constantly.”

“Oh so that’s how he does it? Should have known. He’s just getting good.” Breakdown made sure not to react to Bunsen in his audial, but he couldn’t help but note the almost angry...disbelief in the mech’s voice.

“Can see why, gotta be hard to fight a bot like that, seems a little...overpowered if you ask me. Is there a trick to it?” Spectra nodded.

“You gotta want it to be real, believe in it. It’s pretty easy to snap out of on mass. One on one it’s a pain in the aft though.When he can really sell it to you.” Well that didn’t help him much, maybe trying to control three mechs would strain Knock Out’s ability enough to snap Hound and Impactor out of their trance.

“So..what she do about that, thinking he betrayed her?”

“She locked him up, not the most vile punishment... it’s when things were looking bad, when she was getting ready to run that’s where she lost it. You see she didn’t want to give up on Navitas, she didn’t want his spark to go cold so she needed someone to stay down here and do the work. He wasn’t good enough though, wasn’t strong enough for her.”

She pumped him full of codes. Not all of them stuck...but the ones that did...they mutated into something more than the sum of their parts.

Breakdown’s processor burned, every circuit in his frame pounding in agony in a split second. He lurched forward, folding in on himself as his vision went blinding technicolor, the images quickly settling and disrupting like they were unhappy to be there. He could see a slim, handsome mech, frame dirty and stressed being dragged away in front of his optics. He could hear his own voice screaming, begging, all for Knock Out as if he knew what was going to happen to him, or even if he didn’t that he knew it would likely be the worst thing he could conceive of.

“Boy! You alright? Answer me!” Breakdown was dragged back to reality by Spectra’s rough shaking, he took a deep breath or two as the pain settled and dulled till it was like it had never been there. The only lingering reminder of his episode, a feeling of exhaustion and a sticky stream of energon coming from his nose. Spectra leaned low, Breakdown could see his backstrut pop free through his back plates the look of him alien, futuristic. “Are you okay? I didn’t even give you the damn code yet.”

“M’fine. Fine. Sorry I don’t know what that was.”

Spectra laughed curtly. “Ghosts is what it is. This place is riddled with em’. If you can catch a frequency, they’ll show you the sins of our past.” Breakdown could only nod, not really understanding but any sort of answer was better than nothing. “So, any more questions or you ready to get this show on the road?”

“Uh-” Breakdown rubbed at the tips of his helm, trying to ease the pressure still lingering in his processor. “The heavy duties...are they using codes? I suppose that might be useful if they are. I need to go after Knock Out, he’s got my friends. I’d like to not have to hurt him too bad but I’d really like to not have him hurt me.” Spectra leaned over.

“That’s a dangerous road to go down but I can see your thinking. Trying to confuse him?” Breakdown shrugged.

“More like trying not to upset him. If I go in there acting like somethin’ he’s comfortable with, he might keep calm.”

“He ain’t going to stay calm if you’re trying to take his toys away but you should be able to tussle with him long enough. Schism gave his old heavy duty a fair extra codes to really put up with him but I don’t know if you can handle the load. The basic program will be safer for your spark till you’ve lived with them for a while then maybe, primus forbid you’re stuck down here with us, we can upgrade you.”  
“Okay...so what now?”  
________________________________________

The bright opticed speedys swarmed him as Breakdown returned to their crowded hall, almost as if they could sense what he had on him. Perhaps the gas can gave his intentions away. The heavy dutys gave him empty looks but their attention never strayed from the job at servo for longer that a critical glance. It seemed he was trustworthy enough still. Bunsen who had been rather quiet despite critiquing his choice of code couldn’t help himself but to snark as the speedys took a little more interest in him than just the candies he was offering. Breakdown tried his best to pull away from their feather-like touches but for some reason they felt so comforting, so familiar.

Spectra’s sweets were thankfully a bigger draw and as soon as he started passing them and as soon as his gas can was full of Vis they retreated as quickly as they came. He couldn’t conceive how anything terrible could happen to him from point a to point b but as soon as he had a clear path he capped off his can and retreated to the stairs.

Spectra seemed to assume his success too because despite what he said he had five syringes of vis ready and waiting when he got back. Breakdown took them cautiously, looking them over nervously. Even with the hidden needles and easy injectors he didn’t know if he’d be able to use them himself. Spectra gave him no choice, slamming one firmly down with an experts’ precision, the needle slipping right through Breakdown’s plates and pricking his line. For a moment Breakdown’s frame was on fire, he held his arm tight as the pain coursed through him, falling heavily to his knees in the small cluttered room.

“It’s nasty the first time, but you need to lock the code in or your system might delete it.” Breakdown had few words for the feelings rushing though him, the delusions, the whispers. Only that they too seemed familiar. Like a shot from a gun, the pain new and unbearable but the agony, the terror, comfortingly manageable. He knew it would end, knew it would only make him stronger.

He had to peel himself off the floor but Spectra was kindly there with a damp rag and a few jelly cubes likely laced with painkillers. Breakdown took the rag, not trusting any mech down here to mix drugs properly. “You handled that pretty well! Most glitches pass out after installing one code, you downloaded a whole program.” Breakdown didn’t really appreciate the mechs praise, not with the way his spark felt, as if it would explode at any second...but he could hear the distant whispers in his processor, the idle chatter of the other heavy dutys going on with their cycles. Their voices so soft, so mournful. Breakdown could have gotten lost in their conversations so he shook his head of them quickly.

“I think it’s working. I...I think I can hear ‘em.” Spectra dropped to a squat.

“Really? What do they say?” Breakdown took a moment to focus, tuned in to the loudest conversation coming through the line.

“Work mostly. Trading jobs with one another. They talk to their partners too, kind of personal there.” Spectra shrugged.

“Sounds about right. Can’t imagine they’ve got much left going for them after Schism. At least the code worked. Now that you’re on their frequency you can call them for help. Pretty useful tactic. Knock Out won’t hurt another heavy duty so if they get in his way you have time to book it. Use that as a last resort though, cause if he outs you they’ll bash your head in.”

That was a calming thought, almost. The heavy duties still stood a head and a half taller than him. “I can go ped to ped with them right? The rest of the codes worked?”

“You tell me, you feel any stronger?”

“How strong am I supposed to feel?”

“Like you can rip a mech in half lengthwise.” Breakdown looked at his servos, he certainly didn’t feel like he could do that! “You’ll need to actually run the command for that one. Need to engage megatronus. That one eats up quite a deal of vis though so be careful.” Breakdown nodded, idly.

“So it’s gonna be a wait and see kind of thing.”

“That’d be your best bet, use it only if you need it. The damage it can do will take just as much vis to engage your healing. More if Knock Out manages to really get ya.”

Breakdown pulled himself up, it was now or never it seemed. “You don’t happen to know a medic I could go to just in case? Spectra shook his head guiltily.

“For as dangerous as she can be Schism is the only one I’ve let touch me in centuries. She really is an amazing medic.” The shops were his only bet then, if Bunsen was to be believed at least.

“Got ya’...sure there’s nothing else I can do for you?” He was stalling now. Spectra looked to his computers, optics shimmering.

“You just want your friends, ey? Got no other interest in Knock Out other than that?” Breakdown didn’t know whether to lie or not and Bunsen wasn’t giving him any clues.

“The way you talk, anything else I might have in mind is nothing but a pipedream.”

“True.” Spectra agreed sagely, “Unless~,”

“Unless?” Breakdown didn’t know if he liked the sound of that. He should have never said anything. He watched Spectra rifle through his drawers finally pulling out a slick dark gray orb.  
“You’d only have one shot, and it would mean you’d intentionally need to aggro him but...if you manage to get this on him it will put him in stasis. If you could get him all the way back here I might be able to simulate the bond the other heavy dutys share with the speedys...we’d have him tamed.”

“Take the device Breaky, it’s perfect! Just what we need!” Breakdown was not at all surprised Bunsen decided to chime in right then. The more information he got about Knock Out though, the more cruel their plan was starting to sound. Surely Windblade or this Moony could talk one of the other speedys into helping out, they didn’t really need to traumatize this poor mech any further by forcing him to do their bidding. His hesitation seemed to tick Bunsen off. “What in the pit’re you waitin’ for?! Take the damn device, got me!”

Breakdown slowly reached out. Bunsen had a point. This had been the plan. Who knew if one of the other speedys could make strong enough vis to reawake Navitas, or how much they might need if they did need more than one. Knock Out was strong, he was trained, he was meant for the job even if it was against his will. It was sad...but there was no changing that right now.  
___________________________________________________________________

The trek back was uneventful, then again the war had trained Breakdown to deal with maniacs jumping out at him from any dark corner he forgot to pay enough mind to. He tried to keep himself clean from energon but the stuff that came from the Velocitronians was clingy, slippery and Breakdown found as much as he wiped it only spread coating him in a weak glow. Windblade had said their energon reacted to the crystals, absorbing energy from afar but for a moment he had no idea what could be doing it since aside from a few natural crystal lights the halls were artificially lit, then he remembered his shield. It’s base powered by a massive raw energon crystal.

He debated for a long while to throw the thing away. He knew it was a stupid move but the last thing he needed was to go into Knock Out’s domain looking like a streetlamp. The glow was also irritating more glitched out mechs. The light alone seeming to incite them to violence either from fear that he’d killed their kind or that he was strong enough to survive so therefore must have had Vis. He was able to put them down quickly but Breakdown felt worse and worse for the offlined and likely dying mechs he was leaving in his wake.

By chance a wrong turn and a trip up what he thought was the right staircase he found himself outside what looked to be a wellness center of sorts. The well preserved lobby littered with abandoned kiosks that once boasted fine detailing and polishing services. Breakdown found himself lingering around, raiding them for whatever he could find. He didn’t come up empty handed. Most of the stalls still stuffed with rags and one even still held a drawer full of old tins of wax. He took a few things despite the lingering thought they might have been some poor mechs hidden stash.

As he was getting his bearings though he finally noticed the massive faded portrait on the end wall that gave directions to what he could only assume was a bath of sorts. A quick shower made much more sense than throwing his most useful form of protection away so he quickly followed what was left of the directions in the hopes that he could at least still get some water running. What he found was a bit more than just some cold solvent.

The closer he got the halls slowly became tiled, his pedsteps echoing in the hall, the sound only dulled by the steam pouring from further in. The idea of hot solvent sent shivers down Breakdown’s spine, he was so sticky and sore again. The thought of blistering solvent pounding on his metal for even a few long minutes was more than a dream. There were three doors done up just as ornately as everything else in Delta. Breakdown wished he knew what they meant.

After a few moments of personal panic he just broke down and tried them all only to find each door locked. He surrendered with a sigh and was about to head back in defeat when a light flickered in the empty attendance booth. A smooth dark voice seeping from behind the darker glass. “Soap, sponge, extra services~ All here at Fax’s Oasis. Interested in a bath stranger?”

Breakdown retreated back to the booth slowly. “Ah, yeah. Yes. Do I need to pay?”

“Only for supplies and company like I asked. I just guard the place to keep the bad company out. They all get to wallow in the dregs, before I drain the baths. Keeps cleanup to a minimum. You don’t seem the sort. Shower or Bath?” Breakdown couldn’t help but try to catch a glimpse of the mech behind the counter but all he got was the shine of dark blue optics. It had been a while since he’d seen dark blue.

“Shower please. The one with the strongest spray you’ve got.” That got a chuckle out of them.

“Rough cycle?”

“You wouldn’t believe.” Breakdown couldn’t place why the voice sounded so familiar but it was soothing in a way as if he knew it well.

“You get used to it, or you leave and face the wilds. But I do hope you stay it’s always nice to see a familiar face.” Suddenly there was a distant buzz to his right. Breakdown tried the door again and it pushed open with ease. “Enjoy your bath, Breakdown~”

“Thanks- What?” Breakdown stalled, too afraid to turn around but too stupid to not crane his head as far back as he could. The faint glow of the mechs optics was already gone. He pushed himself to move past the event. In this sort of place, a mech guessing or even knowing his name from simply talking to him had to be one of the most benign things he’d come across. He did regret not buying soap though.

The regret was quickly forgotten along with his discontent as the steam engulfed him. The perfumed solvent seeping into every inch and crevice of him and already disturbing the energon stuck to his frame. The place just as distractingly ornate inside as Breakdown expected and despite being open there were privacy walls and even better the place was blissfully empty. Breakdown couldn’t help but link the place to a conversation he’d overheard on the line. The speedies tended to prefer the baths. He wondered if there was anyway the two connected or if he’d have to get the guards attention again somehow.

Thoughts for later. Quickly Breakdown snuck past the single couple washing each other clean and despite their curious looks they made no action towards him. Seeing a heavy duty alone must simply be an odd occurrence, surely they had private moments though. Stuck at the hip every klick of the cycle forever for eternity would doom any relationship in Breakdown’s opinion.

He wasted no time as soon as he picked his stall. Twisting the knobs as far as the heat would go Breakdown fell heavy to the sturdy bench and let the solvent batter his frame. It was an easy sensation to get lost in. For as well as Bunsen was keeping him on track Breakdown didn’t know how much time had passed. There were clocks down in Delta but he couldn’t read them and aside from the ebb and flow of certain lights around the compound there were no other indicators. No windows, no chimes, just the constant air of an unsettled haunted place.

The sound of delicate pedsteps pulled him from his daze but only to find one of the femmes leaving a quarter bottle of soap just on the ledge of his privacy wall. She gave him a kind little wave as she turned back to catch up with her partner. As if she was doing a little favor for an inconvenienced acquaintance. Breakdown couldn’t help but admire her. Long strands of dark black and bright diamond gems cascading down from a ridge in her helm, perfectly crafted armor that had never, would never, and was never meant to see battle curving so perfectly around a frame so thin Breakdown was sure even a minibot on Cybertron could snap her in half with enough effort.

Clarity. She worked in a detail shop. Her favorite drink of choice was a vintage dry energex from Vos that she’d stashed away in her luggage. Breakdown did this sort of thing often, imagined the lives of strangers he would surely never meet again and yet, he’d never felt so sure that what he imagined was the truth. What an odd feeling. Something even odder, the brand of soap. Simply labeled grease-off, it was an archaic brand that they sold in slaughter city where he’d spent most of his years before the war. It was the only brand he’d ever used before the company went under. It wasn’t something Breakdown could ever imagine a femme of such finery would ever use.

It was nice to have soap though. Sneaking a servo into his subspace he quickly tugged free a rag and started up a good lather. The old stuff smelled just the way Breakdown remembered it. He unclamped his plates with a deep sigh as he started on his chest, letting the soap get deep to his protoform. The baths would have done better for that, for his aching struts but he was working on an uncertain schedule. Impactor and Hound were in danger it wasn’t the time for relaxation.

Unfortunately his processor was not in agreement. Despite his nap Breakdown was still exhausted and as the warmth started to seep deeper and deeper he found his thoughts going foggy until they were almost non existent. He shuttered his optics as he continued to lazily wash the energon from his metal. Letting the consistent patter of the shower soothe his fried nerves. He didn’t mean to fall into standby, didn’t even realize what he’d done until he felt a weight fall into his lap.

Breakdown looked up through lidded optics and saw a slim red velocitronian on his lap, the mech just like the one from his vision though looking much more clean and polished. His frame dripping solvent, slick glass glittering and glowing, refracting light from above. The mech was speaking softly as he leaned heavily on Breakdown, slowly teasing the points of the bigger mech’s helm. Breakdown found his servo resting on the mech’s aft coyly, as if he had some right to be so bold. He knew it was nothing but a dream, his movements sluggish and his thoughts even more so but still he couldn’t keep himself from straining his audials desperate to make out any coherency to what the other mech was saying...to what Knock Out could be saying if these strange visions had any correlation at all. Was this just another ability Knock Out had? Twisting dreams? Was he perhaps just too stupid for it to work properly? Breakdown had no real answers but the weight of Knock Out’s frame felt perfect in his lap and his caresses so soft and almost knowing that Breakdown felt a heat smoldering in his tanks. It was a dream he could lose himself to and likely that was the point.

As he tried to hug Knock Out closer though a sharp voice cut through his daydream. Breakdown jolted awake to actually find a mech in his lap but nothing like the one in his dream. The faceless mech gleamed down at him, his full face visor fever bright tiffany blue. “Ho,ho~ Well aren’t you a handsy mech.” The mech sounded old, as if he’d been buried alive and crawled himself free. His vocalizer so cleanly corrupted by a thick layer of static that it almost seemed intentional. Breakdown promptly tried to shove the bot off.

“Sorry, ‘em sorry. I was recharging I guess.”

“Oh, I know! I came in to make sure you weren’t dead! I like to keep my bath clean you see so no corpses here! Glad to have you awake, how’re you enjoying my love-ly establishment?” Lovely establishment? This mech sounded nothing like the one from behind the glass. Not like there couldn’t be two mechs running the place...but was that really necessary? It was just a bath.

“Uh...its fine. Feeling pretty good. Sorry for worrying you.” Breakdown once again tried to shy away but the mech seemed all too comfortable.

“Ah,ho, ho~ No trouble, none at all~” He laughed warmly, overdramatic, it moving his whole frame. “Say~ You know I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Do you think I could ask you for your help with something?”

“Uh…” It wasn’t like he had much of a choice. Breakdown wasn’t getting a good feeling from this mech. “Sure?”

“Capitol, old sport!” The mech flailed his long limbs in excitement, snatching up his cane he’d left propped up by the privacy wall he slipped from Breakdown’s lap and leaned heavily on it. “If you would follow me~ Hopefully I’m not interrupting you, if I am I’ll happily send you off to the bath with a fine piece of glass once we’re through, hows that sound?” The mech’s optic ridges danced lewdly, assuring he’d implied exactly what it sounded like he was implying.

“I’m-I’m okay. Let me just dry off so I’m not ruining the floors.”

“Mmhmm, mmhmm. Love a mech with a little con-sid-er-ation! L-ove it. Here, let me show you to the dry room!” Breakdown pulled himself up with a grunt, shaking most of the solvent from this frame before following the mech. He couldn’t help but notice that despite being slim and rather handsome for a mech, his new host was old; his frame tinted with a patina, the filigree on his armor and face broken in spots. The cane was also not for show, the mech was slow. He was going to be there all cycle if he didn’t do something.

Breakdown took up the mech’s arm, settling him so his ped was anchored on the back of his wheel. “Let me help you out there. Looks like you could use a good oiling. I uh...didn’t catch your name.” The mech chuckled again, shamelessly pressing himself tight against Breakdown as he was carried away.

“Ha-ha~ That’s because I didn’t give it, old sport. Seeing as you’re an up-standing gent however you may call me Crooner. And what keen optics you’ve got, my poor old rusty knees haven’t seen a medic since the fall. I only ever trusted one mech and he doesn’t see anyone these days.” Breakdown was starting to think the poor mech also had some sort of nervous tick with how often his visor flickered. Likely faulty wiring over the long years.

“Sorry to hear. We should get you out of here then. I can give you my frequency and give you a call once we’ve got everything dealt with. Plenty of good medics on Cybertron” Crooner rapt Breakdown’s spare lightly with his cane as he chuckled again.

“Oh~ Oh, ho,ho. Leaving, that’s a good one. You’re a devil old sport, a right imp! Just through there by the way, get you dry as an old senator’s wit!”

“Right...of course.” Breakdown was no stranger to defeatist humor but Override’s words suddenly echoed in his processor.

_They don’t live very long regardless but better safe than sorry._

Was something wrong with them? Thanks to the Vis? Breakdown could only guess but it was a troubling thought after all they were supposed to be saving them. They weren’t bad mechs per se, just drugged out. They didn’t deserve some slow painful death lauded as heroism. As he went through another heavy gilded door he found a seat and let himself rest in the brunt of the warm breeze coming from the giant fan. Its gusts lazy but strong enough to wick the solvent from him with ease.

“Feels good doesn’t it, old sport? I never leave my bath these cycles. It truly is the only oasis now.” Breakdown hummed in agreement as he pulled out a small can of oil from his arm compartment. He dumped most of it as expertly as he could into his bad shoulder before taking up one of Crooner’s legs. The years of tending to vehicons stealing away most of his manners when it came to mechs who refused to keep themselves in good condition. Despite a bit of initial panic Crooner let himself be swept up, let Breakdown slowly work his tight knee till he could get the fine tip of the oil bottle into a seam. “Jiminy rivets! What a charmer. You’ve got servos that tell me you’ve done this before!”

Breakdown hid his wince as Crooner’s voice spiked sharply with static. “I’m alright. Hopefully this’ll help you out for a week or two. I figure if you want my help though I could be allowed to ask you a thing or two while I’ve got ya?”

“Ooh oiling me up figuratively as well I see. Well,” Crooner effortlessly switched the leg resting in Breakdown’s lap. “Ask away old sport.” Breakdown took it up with a soft sigh, working the tight metal and cables.

“Ransack, Override, the fall of this place, what can you tell me? I know the gist...but details would be nice. What were each of them after?” Crooner hummed, the sound quite lovely.

“Politics, politics~ It was simply...well the sands of time were shifting as it were. Up above where being fast was a necessity those who ruled proved their capability and those who couldn’t served but~ after the fall that didn’t matter so much now did it? We had a good deal of heavy duty mechs on planet, more than anyone wanted to admit. They did the dirty work, they kept this place alive. They quickly realized that and decided that with nothing putting one above the other now and everyone relying on them for their cushy life well then they deserved a little damn respect! Who could blame them? Classic labor dispute, any smart mech saw it coming for miles and with the help of new codes and plenty of Vis well, it made it all to easy to rise up and start the revenge they’d always wanted.”

Primus, of course. Breakdown wanted to say they got what they deserved probably but that was likely just the decepticon in him talking. He didn’t know how bad it was down here. “So whose side did Ransack take?”

“Oh I think you can guess. Nothing but lies in the end though when all the dust settled and who was left was left well, he played nice for a bit but in the end Schism got them all. Good old bots till the end of their days. Ah….Primus~ What can you do, old sport.” Breakdown caught a wave of sadness coming from the mech. It held something deep, something Breakdown was sure the mech wouldn’t be willing to talk about.

“Thanks for that Crooner. I think I’m as dry as I’m gonna get so let’s get to what you needed me for.”

“Capitol! Capitol, yes. Let’s see-” Crooner jumped to his peds, testing out his knees with a few kicks. “Ohh, squeaky but smooth~ I’ll take it!” Breakdown still found himself helping the mech as he jauntily sauntered across the room, catching Crooner by the elbow whenever he would twitch and lock up.

He led them out of the bath and back to the supply booth. It was empty, not a sign any bot had ever been there. Breakdown felt a chill run up his spine as Crooner unlocked the door. “Do you have anyone work this place for you Crooner? Someone let me in, said they kept a watch over the place...that wasn’t you right?”

Crooner hummed in thought as he tugged Breakdown deeper into a back room. “Hmm~ No, aside from myself the only mech who could get in would have been Fax, the pretty face of the place as it were but…” Crooner turned dramatically, getting close. “Old sport he’s been dead for over a century.” Crooner didn’t leave Breakdown any time to respond before he started cackling, slapping at his thigh. “OH! Your face. That was a good one! I’m just kidding with you, old sport it was probably one of my little trinkets. I try to put them to work but they’ve all got their heads in the helium.” Crooner hooked a digit through one of Breakdown’s vents and tugged him gently down. He took a moment to irritably tap the flickering wall of monitors but eventually guided Breakdown’s attention to where he wanted it. “Now, tell me, old sport. Do you know this exquisite flyboy?”

The camera showed off a cinema of sorts, the room dark and full of plush chairs, there were enough mechs sitting inside that Breakdown had to search for exactly who Crooner was asking about but there was no missing Thundercracker, the mech laughing away at whatever was on the screen, popping jelly candies in his mouth as he enjoyed himself.”


End file.
